


From Out of Nowhere

by Verde_Manzanita



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, Insecurities, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 07:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verde_Manzanita/pseuds/Verde_Manzanita
Summary: Paul went through an emotionally devastating divorce and has moved to a new apartment. He feels overwhelmed and terribly alone, and doesn't hold any hopes that such a situation is ever going to end. And then, out of nowhere, a new neighbour moves in, and she could be just what he needed.





	From Out of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey!
> 
> Let's break it down: this world needs a greater amount of cute little Paulchen, so here are my two cents. I'd like to dedicate this story to Miss Naraism, since she seems to fancy this adorable ball of fluff and love as much as me.
> 
> Remember, this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence.

**I**

_There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and unspeakable love_ – Washington Irving.

 

Paul sighs for the millionth time that morning. He’s spent the whole night drowning in his own misery, unable to sleep a wink. Turning in bed –and it really doesn’t feel like his bed, not even his home– he can almost hear his best friend Richard’s voice gently telling him “ _It’s been six months already since the divorce Paul, it’s time for you to start moving on_ ”; well, that’s easy to say for Reesh, who is with someone new every couple of weekends –he thinks while finally surrendering and casting the covers aside to get up. He just can’t get used to the idea that he’s gonna be alone for God knows how long before another woman catches some interest in him –should that ever happen again, which he doubts.

His turn doesn’t start until 4 pm, so he decides to take a long shower and perhaps have something to eat before, although he hasn’t been feeling hungry lately; anyways, his good friend Flake has threatened to come over and feed him through a funnel if necessary, so he might as well have some lunch voluntarily. A few minutes later Paul finds himself sobbing quietly under the stream of hot water. They had been married for nearly 20 years, what did he do wrong? It had been her who cheated on him, it had been her who lost interest in being together, it had been her who dumped him like he was some disposable object, so why the hell does he keep feeling like it is all his fault?

Paul isn’t made to be alone, that’s a fact. He enjoys giving affection and the feeling of being mutually loved and taken care of. His marriage had been an utter failure for years but it’s meant half his life. What is he going to do now? He steps out of the shower and into his bedroom to pick some clothes, a pair of faded jeans and a clean T-shirt should do; at least work keeps him distracted from his own pity party. He teaches guitar lessons at a music school and it isn’t a bad job, it has a fair work schedule and gives him enough free time to play guitar, hang out with the guys or simply relax at home. Not that he needs time to himself more than something to keep him busy now, but he isn’t going to complain either.

By the time he walks inside the kitchen he’s already feeling his stomach shut, but takes the time to prepare a light sandwich and forces himself to eat at least half of it. As he finishes, he busies himself washing the dishes and cleaning the table and counters as slowly as he can; when Paul checks his watch he notices he still has an hour before having to get ready and head to work, and that does it for him. He’ll leave the car in the garage and go by foot, for if he spends another minute at home he’ll just scream. He rubs his eyes with the palm of his hands and rests his back against the wall for a minute. He’s well aware he needs to stop feeling sorry for himself and feeding on the idea that his life has just ended. But it is too damn difficult.

He puts on his leather jacket, takes the keys and his bag and leaves. The door of the apartment opposite his is open and the small hall is full of sealed boxes and pieces of furniture; someone must be moving into the building, and Paul isn’t sure if it means he will have the chance to talk to someone new from time to time or he’ll be tolerating another annoyance in his life. He shakes his head and keeps on walking, and as he is going down the stairs on the second floor he finds a woman carrying a big, heavy-looking box upstairs. The new neighbour, apparently. She moves carefully watching her every step, and seems strong enough, but he can swear she is going to lose her balance anytime, so he approaches her and offers his help.

“Hey there, let me”. He holds the front of the box and lets half of its weight rest on him. The woman glances directly at Paul from behind the box with an indecipherable look on her bright blue eyes; he stands still and blinks, his mind turning into a blank space for an insufferable second. He then blinks again. “What floor?”, he asks softly.

“Fourth”, she answers.

They carry the heavy box upstairs, each of them holding the weight at one side. He can hear clinking noises coming from inside and supposes it contains glasses or maybe plates. Paul has to look back every once in a while to make sure he doesn’t stumble with the steps and falls over. She doesn’t say a word but he can see her peeping from behind the box a couple of times to check he takes every step right. When they reach the fourth floor they carefully place the box on the landing and he seizes the opportunity to study her. She is about his height and has her ginger hair tied up in a messy bun, some strands falling freely beside the pale skin of her freckly cheeks. She looks slightly uncomfortable, but that doesn’t prevent her from studying Paul as well.

“ _Vielen danke_ ”, she says finally, and reaches her hand out to Paul. He shakes it gently.

“ _Gern geschehen_. I live in this floor as well”, he points a finger at his apartment, “should you ever need something, I’ll be there”. She nods and gives him a discreet smile before pushing the box inside with her foot.

Paul goes downstairs one more time and lets Berlin’s fresh air hit his face. He breathes deeply and closes his eyes to enjoy it for a moment before making his way to the school. The afternoon passes quickly and his classes let him forget the sorrowful sensations he’s grown accustomed to. In the evening he walks home trying to focus his mind on anything he can see –buildings, trees, people walking their dogs, children’s laughter, the dark sky. And when he enters the building and arrives home, he notices a ceramic plate covered with a blue cloth resting on his mat. Startled, he kneels down, takes it and puts the cloth aside discovering a warm portion of apple strudel with a rose of whipped cream on top under it. It smells deliciously of green apples and cinnamon, and has a handwritten note next to it. Paul has to read it a couple of times.

“ _Thought you might like it. Consider it a payment for the help. Thanks again. Eva._ ”

He smiles warmly and glances towards his new neighbour’s door. He’s forgotten completely to introduce himself or to ask her name, but he now has a good excuse to do so. He takes the plate inside feeling a bit better. And for the first time in weeks, Paul eats with enthusiasm.


End file.
